


because i was compelled

by Elsin



Series: Lay of the Lioness [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Rigel Black Series - murkybluematter, Tortall - Tamora Pierce
Genre: Character Study, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Fanfiction of Fanfiction, Gen, Rigel Black Chronicles - Freeform, Rigelverse, Series: The Song of the Lioness, The Pureblood Pretense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-29
Updated: 2019-07-29
Packaged: 2020-07-24 19:49:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20020060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elsin/pseuds/Elsin
Summary: How Rigel got her ring."Why bring me here?" Alanna asked."Because I was compelled," Myles answered.





	because i was compelled

The summer that he graduated from Hogwarts, when he was yet seventeen, Severus Snape went to Greece. There were potions ingredients to be found there; they would grow nowhere else, and were best picked fresh by the potioneer. And that was how he found himself in the ruins.

Really, he didn't care about ancient history except as it pertained to potions, and there, on the muggle side of some Mycenaean ruins, there was nothing to catch his eye. He didn't even know the name of the place; all he knew was that elderwort grew there and only there. And he was hunting the elusive violet flower.

Casting a quick glance around to make sure no one could see him, he disillusioned himself. He didn't fancy getting caught by muggles in a place where he wasn't meant to be. Of course he could get out of such a situation, but still. It would be a hassle.

Hidden now from sight, Severus made his way into the ruins. After an hour's worth of walking and dodging tourists—he was starting to doubt his disillusionment plan—he finally made his way deep enough in that the crowds thinned and, out of the corner of his eye, he glimpsed a flash of purple. A sharp grin made its way across his face. Finally.

He climbed carefully up the crumbling structure, staying as best as he could on the solid stone that remained in place. Once he reached the flower he'd tired of shaking his hair from his face, and accordingly tied it back.

The violet elderwort flowers grew from turquoise stalks, and their leaves were magenta, sprouting from the base. Severus carefully selected two stalks and four leaves, cutting them on a strict forty-five-degree angle before wrapping them in mulberry silk and slipping them delicately into his clipping case, brought with him in his bag. Then he stood and moved on from that location; he could not take too many cuttings from any one place, lest he damage the population.

And that was how his afternoon and evening went, until the setting sun stained the sky red and he had sixteen stalks and thirty-two leaves. It was time for him to leave; he had what he had come for, and more easily than he had expected, too.

Severus clambered down the ruins to the paved street below, and set about retracing his route. Or—well. He certainly  _ meant  _ to retrace his route. But there was a ruined temple to his right, and it called to him.

It called him with a high, singing voice that couldn't be ignored, though not for lack of trying on his part. He shook his head furiously, but still its song echoed on, and without his proper input he found his feet carrying him towards it. The song filled his mind, and he followed it into the temple.

Sitting there on a column was a girl with short red hair and violet eyes. Across her lap she had a sword with a crystal in its pommel, and she gave him a wicked grin as he, enraptured, gazed on. Severus reached out, and closed his hand on the hilt. The song fractured then, and the red-haired girl was gone as if she had never been. In her place stood a girl with long, tangled black curls and the brightest green eyes Severus had ever seen. Brighter even than Lily's.

On her right forefinger a ring blazed, a tiny supernova, a miniature star. Somehow, he knew that its crystal was the same as the one in the first girl’s sword. She gave him a small, sad smile, and then she was gone. In her place, before Severus' very eyes, an image unfolded: a black city, shining under the sun. He blinked, and it too was gone, the fractured song with it.

He felt cold then, and dragged down by a bone deep exhaustion. In his hand he no longer held the sword; instead he held the girl's ring.

Some instinct kept him from putting it on. It was not, he knew, for him. So instead he tucked it carefully into his potions bag, and without a word he turned on his heel and left the ruined temple.

He'd had enough mysterious encounters for a lifetime, thank you very much.

* * *

Only two weeks remained before the departure of the Champions to Persopolis, and some indescribable discomfort crawled under Severus' skin. A glimmer of a long-forgotten song rang in his mind. He ignored them both.

He observed Rigel's free brewing with something uncomfortably close to pride; his apprentice was coming along very nicely indeed. He could only hope that the boy would not be killed at the last stage of the Tournament, so close to freedom. Finally night came, and Rigel cleaned up his station and left, and Severus himself went off to bed.

He dreamed of a black city, shining in the sun. In the street stood his apprentice, dressed as he would be for a Task, a star shining on his hand. The boy turned to him, and unlike with the two girls he'd seen so long ago there was no smile on his face. Rigel gave him a stare that seemed to cut right through him, then turned away. Flames rose up behind him, burning the city away to nothing.

Severus woke in a cold sweat, and went about his day as if nothing had happened—for nothing  _ had _ happened. It was but a dream.

That night, he dreamed the dream again, exactly as it had been before. Again he woke in a cold sweat, and still he acted as if it were all the same. As if there was no sign hanging over him.

The dreams continued for five more nights.

On the seventh morning, Severus growled, low in his throat. He knew what he had to do.

For nearly seventeen years the crystal ring had sat in a box, untouched even by him. He pulled it from its box—it looked no different than it had then—and wrapped it in parchment, then, using a handwriting charm to disguise his penmanship, scrawled his apprentice's name across the package. As the sun was rising he carried it up to the Owlery, and sent it off with a school owl.

Finally he might be able to get some  _ rest _ .

Indeed, the dreams did stop.

* * *

The streets were silent as Rigel and Draco returned to Persopolis. They'd apparated in shortly after dawn, and the city natives stared at them. Some even knelt. Both teenagers looked hideously uncomfortable with the attention directed their way.

On Rigel's forefinger, there was a brightly-shining star.

**Author's Note:**

> since some were confused--Snape is seventeen in the first section, going on eighteen.  
> also, mercury is a great beta.


End file.
